


my turn

by luni



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Hair-pulling, I'm not actually sorry, M/M, No penetration, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-09
Updated: 2016-12-09
Packaged: 2018-09-07 13:06:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8801992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luni/pseuds/luni
Summary: Yuuri was in control, and he absolutely loved it.(or was he?)





	

**Author's Note:**

> bends over seductively to pick up porn I'M SORRY IT'S ALL I WRITE you gotta wait for ep12 before having something more meaningful out of my writing
> 
> in the meantime enjoy this shameless smutfest :k

Katsuki Yuuri lived with anxiety: that much had been set in stone a very long time ago.

  
He was so used to the feeling of something twisting and stomping around in his ribcage whenever any kind of hardship came into play, that he fully expected to have a complete breakdown during his first time - so used to it that when the breakdown didn't come, he felt as if something was missing. And no, it definitely wasn't his champagne-soaked shirt, lying on the floor.

  
Victor was kissing him softly, hands resting at both sides of Yuuri's neck, thumbs joined under his chin. Weird. He could have sworn Victor was literally going to eat his face a few seconds before.

  
"Yuuri," he sighed, fondly. It wasn't chastising nor impatient: just a kind reminder that they were in the middle of something and maybe, just maybe, Yuuri spaced out during their intense makeout session.

  
"Ah, sorry," snorted Yuuri, amused at himself. He was taking it awfully well.

  
Yes, something was definitely missing.

  
Victor smiled back. "Don't make me wait any longer."

  
Before Yuuri could answer, Victor's lips were back on his mouth, this time with more urgency. It wasn't long before Yuuri kissed back harder, hands clawing at Victor's shirt: he could hear Victor's tiny gasps at every lap of his tongue, and every wet pop of his lower lip snapping away from that warm mouth of his.

  
The fact that he couldn't taste alcohol on his lips or tongue made it all better. It was just Victor, no other taste, no other smell.

  
"I won't," he replied, albeit a bit late, but Victor didn't seem to mind as his smile perked up instantly, fingers already working on the infuriatingly small buttons of his shirt; as soon as the last one slid out, Yuuri grabbed Victor's shoulders and made a lunge for his neck, covering its side with sloppy, wet, open-mouthed kisses.

  
Victor moaned out loud: _there it is_.

  
Yuuri's right hand found its way through Victor's hair, gold ring scraping against his scalp, fingers tightening and pulling hard: Yuuri found it hard to suppress a smirk at Victor's breathless gasp, lips and tongue giving equal attention to the wet skin of his neck.

  
"Yuuri, what- _ah,_ \- what are you doing...?" he managed to ask, right when Yuuri thought biting down on Victor's barely clothed shoulder was a good idea. And he could have asked the same thing, really: he should have been an anxious mess, embarrassed to the tip of his ears, all shaky limbs and teary eyes. He expected to be nervous, afraid of messing up, but it all came naturally: all it took was looking right into Victor's trusting eyes.

  
A warm, soothing feeling suddenly bubbled up in his chest.

  
"Victor," he began, knees sinking into the mattress at both sides of Victor's thighs, thumbs toying with the waistband of his trousers, "tell me if I'm doing well."

  
As the black fabric slid down Yuuri's hips, exposing a fuzzy trail of black, curly hair, Victor's teeth sunk into his bottom lip. He answered with a nod, all hooded eyes and white knuckles, itching to touch.

  
Suddenly, Yuuri's lips were on his own. "A nod won't do," he murmured, deepening the kiss. All Victor could do was smile into the kiss, hands running down Yuuri's chest.

  
"I like when you tell me what to do, Yuuri."

  
_Oh really_. Victor's lips abandoned Yuuri's mouth as he confessed something he already knew, then kissed a path down his neck, following the curve of his shoulder, as Yuuri groaned: that was all the permission Victor needed to pull both his trousers and underwear down.

  
Yuuri was leaking already, and Victor busied himself with hasty kisses on Yuuri's mouth. "You're beautiful," he gasped, fingernails digging into Yuuri's thighs, eliciting a soft moan out of his parted lips.

  
"I thought you wanted me to order you around?"

  
Victor froze in place, risking a downward glance at Yuuri's erection. He smiled. "I think I did..."

  
Yuuri pushed him down on the bed, hands curling up on Victor's wrists and pinning them down at both sides of his head, looking straight into his eyes. "Then look at me."

  
The fabric of Victor's trousers was thin enough that the friction between Yuuri's groin and his own had shivers run down his spine: Yuuri took a sharp breath, eyes taking in all of Victor's body below him. He had seen him naked many times before that night, had felt intimidated by him, almost afraid to touch his skin the first times they cuddled and fooled around, but having Victor all to himself, pinned down and panting and almost begging with hooded eyes to be taken, well...

  
"Please, Yuuri," moaned Victor, arching his back. Yuuri let out a shaky breath - it was still hard to accept that he could make Victor feel like _that_.

  
Yuuri was in control, and he absolutely loved it.

  
He let go of Victor's wrists and sat back on his lap, hands grabbing his thighs, as Victor looked up at him questioningly. There was no room for actual talk, though, as Yuuri's nose took quite a darker shade of red and he cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible.

  
"Let me see your cock."

  
Yuuri's voice broke somewhere down the road, the tips of his ears had to be magenta at that point, and it was so hard to look down at Victor after having said that, but he did, and was rewarded with the sweetest prize: Victor's pupils fully dilated, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, the rise and fall of his chest faster than he ever remembered. He complied, hips shrugging out of his trousers maybe a bit too fast for Yuuri's liking, erection plopping down on his stomach, hard and heavy.

  
"You're being so good, Yuuri," he remarked, closing a shaky fist on his own erection. Victor started pumping himself fast, his gaze on Yuuri never faltering, and Yuuri felt threatened: _he_ was on top, _he_ was the one supposed to make that kind of talk! Victor was openly challenging him, making a show of groaning and going at a deliberately fast pace.

  
That realization only turned Yuuri on more.

  
"Am I?" he wondered aloud, conceding a smile. Victor smiled back and nodded, lips quivering and hips shooting up to pump into his own fist- that was when Yuuri had enough, and grabbed his hair roughly, making sure he never broke eye contact.

  
Victor's hand was still, heavy puffs of breath forcing their way through parted lips, eyes blinking fast.

  
"I want to come first."

  
Yuuri only partly registered Victor's hand closing on his bicep, before he was being shoved back to allow him to sit up and tug at his cock mercilessly, which had Yuuri cry out loud.

  
"You want to come first, you say," Victor growled against Yuuri's lips, biting them hard to the point of drawing blood; his fingers dug into the soft flesh of Yuuri's arm, keeping him in his place, as he moaned and begged, scratching at his back, calling his name.

  
_Yes, just like that._

  
"Victor-"

  
"As soon as you finish," he interrupted Yuuri's plea, planting a wet kiss on his heaving, "I am going to come however I want, with your help."

  
And that sent Yuuri over the edge, head tilted back in a silent scream, coming all over Victor's hand and his own stomach: as soon as Yuuri calmed down, a wave of irrational anger hit him- _he was supposed to-_

  
Victor groaned, eyes taking in everything from the top to the bottom, from Yuuri's disheveled hair to the marks of Victor's own nails on his thighs.

  
"My turn," he drawled, grabbing Yuuri's hips hard, and the anger was sucked out of him as Victor threw him down on the bed.


End file.
